


One Night in Vegas

by LZClotho (LZielinsky)



Series: Twisted Tea [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/F, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23716711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LZielinsky/pseuds/LZClotho
Summary: Meeting up at a convention after Voyager's end, Kate and Jeri have had time to think about their interactions and see their animosity in new light. One weekend in Las Vegas can't possible resolve everything, but it will spark even more soul-searching. (yes, there's sequels)
Relationships: Kate Mulgrew/Jeri Ryan
Series: Twisted Tea [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706776
Kudos: 12





	One Night in Vegas

**Author's Note:**

> This follows up after **Tea at Five Twisted** and was first written in early 2004. I listed this as mature, but the most sexual thing that happens is a bit of passionate kissing. The two also have a LOT of heated conversation _(not of the seductive kind)_. I kind of feel like this story helped the two ladies work out some of their issues. LOL

**Disclaimers:**  
This story is fiction. That said, some of the people herein named are real people. That means this is actor fic.  
If you don't like that idea, DO NOT READ THIS STORY.  
  
**Content Disclaimers:**  
This story features same-sex explicit action between consenting adult women. If you don't like that idea, DO NOT READ THIS STORY.

One Night In Vegas

by LZClotho

(c) 2004

Not long after midnight, the bar of the Las Vegas Hilton served only a few lingering customers, and those had settled deep into the shadowy booths to be alone with their booze.

The solitude suited the blonde who nursed a red wine spritzer, drinking in the silence along with the alcohol. She always needed the sense of space and anonymity, not to mention the quiet, after the kind of frenetic, noisy day she just had been through.

Leaning back into the vinyl cushion, she tipped her head back as well. Tension eased incrementally from her neck and spine. Taking another slow sip from her glass, she closed her eyes and shut out the image of herself in the mirrored ceiling.

_If the audience could see me now_ , she thought wryly. They thought her beautiful with stunning blonde shoulder-length hair, light blue eyes, statuesque in her skirt and high heels.

However, she had taken great pleasure in kicking off the heels two seconds inside her hotel room’s door. The skirt followed. She replaced them with Adidas sweatpants and cross-training sneakers. Her long hair was now pulled back severely off her face with a tie-dyed blue-gray cloth scrap. Hopefully the whole effect would continue to make others not particularly take note of her.

The convention staff finally let her go, her hand cramped from autographing, around ten-thirty. Briefly she smiled at the memory of Roxanne giving her a warm nod goodbye when she stood from signing one table over from her.

There had also been Bob. They had appeared onstage together, even sharing a duet of "You Are My Sunshine" to the delight of fans. Out at the service elevator afterward, he had put his arms around her and wished her well. His eyes were warm and friendly and she had returned the sentiments before getting off at the fourth floor for her room.

Thinking on the fans’ reception, and that of her former colleagues, she was glad she had not cancelled her appearance after being splashed all over the news during Jack’s aborted Senate campaign, and the challenge over their sealed divorce documents.

She still wondered how he could have thought the GOP would look the other way regarding an adventurous, or even attempted adventurous, sex life.

When their marriage was failing, she had accepted her being away constantly had a lot to do with it. The romantic weekends he planned, or so she had thought, would help them reconcile. However, public sex was just not something she had even wildly entertained as exciting.

In retrospect, she realized Jack probably would have been flattered by it all. But she... Jeri sipped her drink and shook her head. Though not particularly conservative in her thinking, as her appearances at two Gay Pride Parades in San Francisco attested, she was still very much the girl from Kentucky.

That sort of thing had never been for her.

# # #

The lobby was quiet as the late-night traveler stepped up to the registration desk. Behind her the concierge rolled in a tall cart with her lone battered midnight blue suitcase. Though it was the middle of the night, she still wore a wide-brimmed hat to shield her features. Tugging it off now, she directed gray-blue eyes to the clerk behind the desk.

"I called from the airport," she said. "Mulgrew."

The clerk looked up and nodded. Smiling, he passed over a credit card-sized room key. "Room 4102," he said.

She turned to the bellboy now taking charge of her bag. "4102," she said, pressing a few bills into his hand. "I’ll be up later."

As soon as he was gone, she looked around, spying the bar, and resolved to get a drink to relax, and celebrate. She was here. _Finally_. She was also alone for the first time in nine months at a public event. Tim had had other obligations at home, leaving her to come alone.

All the official activities would begin in the morning with the charity breakfast that she had agreed to attend. However, now belonged entirely to her. She slid onto a stool at the bar. Wiping glasses, the bartender nodded at her.

She returned it. "A plum brandy," she requested, her voice a quiet purr. "No ice."

That got her a second look. He smiled; she dipped her chin once. Turning up the tumbler he was drying in his hands, he lifted a dark bottle from the rack behind him. Pouring two fingers worth of the rich swirling purple-red liquid, he pushed it across the bar surface. She slid him a five-dollar bill, shaking her head when he lifted an eyebrow. _Keep the change_.

She lifted the tumbler in her right hand in silent toast, bent her elbow and took a long draught savoring her first sip. The knots of traveling slowly unraveled as the cool alcohol caressed her throat. She had forgotten how hot western summers could get.

Stepping down from the stool, she started searching the nearby booths for a place to settle and take a load off.

There were not many patrons at this hour. A man in a business suit, tie askew, languished at a corner table. Only one booth now seemed occupied, though a few had abandoned empty glasses and napkins glowing under their hanging lamps.

Her breath caught in her throat as she surveyed the bent head of the lone booth occupant. The long body hunched over a tall glass, long fingers drumming distractedly at the base.

_No. It couldn’t be_.

_Could it?_

She took a half step forward before she could think another coherent thought. Anticipation and anxiety thrashed around in her chest like two caged fighting birds.

Obviously sensing her approach, the blonde head shot up, long fingers clenching so tightly around the base of the glass it started to tip. Nothing in the uncannily ice-blue shaded eyes slowed Kate’s nervous heart.

The voice however effectively doused her blood ice cold. So different. "What are you doing here?"

Her muscles refused to let her go. She stared at the other woman as her heart crashed to the bottom of her stomach. Her expression of shock fell to pain as she realized she had very nearly mistaken the blonde actress for the woman she had been unable to purge from her mind the last nine months: Ronnie.

The mere thought of the lithe schoolteacher made Kate blush, and then all the blood drained from her face as she realized how remarkably similar the two women were. She bent to let the light from the table better illuminate the seated woman.

_Had her attraction to Ronnie been all about Jeri?_ She had a lot of unresolved feelings about her former costar, but the more she looked at that profile, the more she felt not only the things she had felt with Ronnie, but like the biggest heel in the world. She took a hesitant step forward.

"What are you doing here?" she turned the question around forcefully.

The question was not unwelcoming though it was abrupt and surprised. It took Jeri a moment to collect herself and answer the question. "I was... one of the guests today."

"Oh."

Jeri watched as Kate straightened, seemingly stumped. "You're here early," she offered, surprisingly loathe to just let the chance encounter pass as dream-like as it felt with the lamp glowing golden, partially blocking each woman from the other's sight.

"Breakfast tomorrow," Kate said. "Um, today actually. It's after midnight." Jeri watched the compact woman's fingers flex around her glass. _Nervous?_ _Usually_  
_all I manage to do is piss her off._

"Well, I... don't want to keep you from... Tim?" Jeri surprised herself with the hopeful note present in her own voice. If four years couldn't make them friends, why did she think one conversation, one night in Vegas, would make any difference? "Good luck tomorrow."

"Tim's not here," Kate said. Jeri realized it was not her imagination. Kate was disturbed, but not in an angry way.

"I'm sorry."

From looking away, Kate's eyes were suddenly back on Jeri. She straightened as the woman spoke. "I'm not."

That raised Jeri's eyebrows. "Oh." She gambled. Now or never, she thought, gesturing to the opposite bench seat. "Um, have a seat?"

_There are plenty of other seats_ , a small voice pointed out. Kate however looked at the bench. A glance back to Jeri showed her something she had never expected to see: vulnerability.

Jeri's face was turned away, tilted down toward her drink. Tendrils of feeling she had been told to forget slipped in tingles through her. Kate found herself watching an elegantly long index finger trail through the perspiration on the glass surface. "How did today go?" she asked, even as her inner voice wondered _why are you prolonging this? She's not Ronnie, and never will be_.

Jeri's gaze jumped back up to her, startled. "I, uh, fine."

Recalling recent events that had been impossible to ignore, splashed as they were everywhere, Kate asked, "How's Alex?" Jeri's eyes widened with alarm. Kate apologized, "It was hard to miss the political news."

"You, um, mean Jack." Kate nodded. "Fine. I guess. Um, Alex is fine. I... We escaped to Florida through the worst of it."

"Sore subject?"

"Just hoping it would die."

"In politics," Kate said with a gentle knowing smile. "Skeletons are eternal." The expression that light remark got her was so vulnerable, Kate felt as stunned as if she had been gut-punched. She quickly offered, "I'm familiar with the sentiment. I married one." Her lips quirked. "A politician, not a skeleton."

Her smiled widened as Jeri's gradually appeared. She was rather proud of herself, though she had no idea why, that she had been able to lighten the blonde's mood. Certainly a year ago, it would not have even occurred to her to try.

She looked again at the seat, decided she had probably gone about as far as she felt comfortable -- just looking at Jeri Ryan had the power to bring back deeply uncomfortable memories, and now mixed with the amazing resemblance to Ronnie Cook, Kate decided she had better retreat before something happened she was not sure she could handle. "I should get going."

As she straightened up, a very quiet, very tiny voice rippled through her consciousness: _If she asks me to sit, I'll do it_.

Under her breath came out, "I saw your play."

Jeri blinked. _Oh fuck, why did I say that?_ She quickly looked away from the woman and acted as if she had said nothing. She prayed Kate had not heard her. 

  
Kate did not move. "My play?"

When Jeri looked up, she nodded, caught by the vulnerable surprise in swirling gray. "The Royal Family." She exhaled, obliquely admitting to the other half of her secret. "I thought Tea at Five suited you better."

Kate bit her lip; obviously she had harbored the same opinion, but agreeing with Jeri was something she had a hard time doing. "Thank you," was finally all the woman could say, as she looked down, away from Jeri's face.

More clear now in the lighting, Jeri suddenly noted Mulgrew's hair. She had always thought the red-brown hair an attractive feature for the older woman. Jeri was so surprised to see it now more a light brown with blond streaks, she blurted, "You changed your hair." Kate blushed. "It's nice," Jeri added.

It did complement the subtle tan which made the freckles on Kate's un-made-up face stand out quite attractively. She looked years younger.

There went the lip-bite again. Jeri was beginning to think she had run into the ghost of her former firebrand co-star, with all this insecurity practically shouting at her in the silence. "Have I said something wrong?"

"No, I..." Kate shook her head and sat down, instead of walking away. Jeri correctly interpreted the confused body language as the other woman wrestled with some internal quandary.

Kate was now seated opposite her. "Did you ever wonder what the hell you were doing?"

Jeri's eyebrows went up in surprise. When Kate's eyes lifted up to hers, she quickly wiped away the expression. Neutrally, she offered, "Sometimes."

  
Kate watched Jeri's lips moving around the singular word. _Damn, the resemblance is uncanny_. She sipped at her drink to wet her suddenly dry throat. "Do you have a  
sister?" she blurted. _There has to be some kind of explanation_.

"No. I have a brother. Why?"

"Oh. I... Never mind." Shit. She took another fortifying sip of the alcohol. "I met this woman..."

Abruptly she clamped her jaw shut. _Shut up! Shut up! You can't tell her that!_

Jeri wondered at the stricken look on Kate's face. After a glance at the woman's drained glass, she wondered if the alcohol content had somehow loosened the older woman's  
usually ascerbic tongue. But dear God, she had waited years to hear something from Kate which had nothing to do with their work, and the competition which she had not intentionally started, but which she had borne nonetheless. She ventured forth, with a curious tone, inviting conversation as she sometimes did with Alex when he clearly had a bad day at school and did not want to share. "I don't think I understand."

Kate looked up from her glass, her face not quite the usual mask again. Jeri could see the emotional disarray remained, in the pinched corners of her eyes, the nibble again at her lip. The whole image was screaming vulnerability and so anathema to Jeri, she found herself worried. Worried over this woman whom could not care less about her. _Damn_. She started to her feet.

Kate's voice stopped her. "A woman..." Jeri turned and stared. Kate was looking at her glass, not at her. "Like you," she went on. Jeri sat down again. "Came to see 'Tea'." Kate's brow furrowed. "Why would you come see my play?"

"I'm a fan of good theater," she answered honestly.

Kate's gaze snapped up to her own and narrowed with what Jeri recognized from too many encounters as suspicion.

"You don't believe I'd think 'Tea' was good theater? Or do you believe that I wouldn't see you in something?" Jeri let loose some of her pent up frustrations, too many years of holding silent. "I love theater, and I always did think you were a skilled actor."

Kate turned her face away from her and started to rise.

Jeri grabbed for the hand just sliding free of the glass. "Don't go," she asked. "I want to understand. I want to clear the air." She forced her voice back down to a whisper as the bartender looked over at them. Raising her chin to meet Kate's face, she found the woman's gaze on their hands. "Don't leave without explaining yourself. You sat down here. You mention some woman, drag out of me that I saw your play. I think I deserve some idea what this has been about."

The wrist in her grip turned, making her keenly aware of the silk feel of skin and tendons and muscles tensed and afraid.

Kate's eyes were wide. Her voice was thready and scared. "Let go. Please." The blue eyes assiduously avoided Jeri's. "I... I won't run."

"Sounds like you want to."

"Please?"

Relenting, Jeri opened her grip and watched Kate's wrist slip free. Small dainty fingers flexed. "Did I hurt you?"

"No." Kate rubbed at her wrist still with her other hand, but resumed her seat across the table. She reached for her glass, obviously to steady herself, only to recoil as she remembered it was empty.

"Talk?" Jeri asked. "If you're willing, the next round is on me?"

After a long moment of silence, Kate nodded. Jeri released the breath she had held, and her curiosity mounted.

"What're you drinking?" She waved the bartender over.

"Plum brandy."

_That is a stiff drink_ , Jeri thought, knowing that the plum wine at her favorite Japanese place tended to put her out after two glasses. Brandy was a stronger distillation of the fruit. She wondered if Kate was trying to forget or relax. She told the bartender, "Another wine spritzer for me. Put them both on my tab."

He nodded and vanished. She returned her attention to Kate, whose thoughts were clearly elsewhere as she gazed into her empty tumbler.

_Maybe it is pointless to try to bridge this chasm_ , Jeri thought. _She looks like she's about to meet a firing squad_. "You know. Forget it. Take your drink and go on."

"I didn't end it right," Kate said suddenly. "I regret that." Her eyes came up and searched Jeri's face.

It was unnerving. Though the woman was across a table, Jeri recalled the last time they were anywhere near this close, during the filming of "Voyager." The bartender returned with their drinks and Jeri took a long sip only to realize the butterflies in her stomach weren't going to interact well with the alcohol. She set the glass back down.

Kate was still meeting her gaze. "Not with you. Not with her. Damn, I regret that."

"Are you trying to tender an apology?" Jeri asked. "Cause frankly I'd love to hear one." She picked up her glass again. "And who is this 'her'? She sounds pretty important to this conversation."

Kate's face crumbled with pain. Only once, maybe twice, had Jeri seen the woman across from her completely fall apart. The sight did not prepare her for the words she heard however.

"Her name was Ronnie. I... I loved her."

Jeri inhaled with a gasp and choked on her wine. Kate's gaze shot up at the sound of her trying to cough and clear her lungs.

_Shit_. "Are you getting me back for some of that Faction stuff we heard during filming?" Jeri asked when she finally could breathe. "It's not funny."

"I'm not laughing," Kate said quietly, seriously, and looked down as she took a steadying sip from her brandy.

Jeri leaned back, assessing Kate. "Why are you telling me this? If I hated you, I could do a lot with information like that."

"Do you?"

Jeri shook her head as Kate watched her. "No."

"I... It's uncanny. You look almost exactly like her. But when I looked in her eyes..." Kate turned her head away, breaking their locked gazes.

Jeri felt something move in her chest. Quietly she asked, "What did you see?"

"Excitement." Kate's face surprisingly turned red.

"Was she..." Jeri searched for a casual way to put her question. "Did she come on to you?"

Kate bit her lip. "I think I made the first pass."

Jeri smiled. "I suspect you would." Blue eyes darted up to hers. She did not wipe the smile away. "Even if you had not a clue what you were doing, I bet you were completely in control."

"What makes you say that?"

"You can't take being second at anything." Kate's eyes narrowed. "No offense. It is one of the things I admired about you from the beginning."

"You did?"

"It wasn't all you going to toe-to-toe, Kate. I pushed your buttons."

"On purpose?"

"Sometimes."

"Why?"

"I thought we were talking about you and this other woman, not you and me."

"Did you ever wonder?"

"Wonder what?"

"What it would be like?"

"Kate, you have to be drunk. You're being obtuse."

"I'm not drunk. You mentioned the Faction. Have you ever wondered what you would have done?"

Jeri was subjected to that very direct, searching gaze once again. It was her turn to swallow nervously. _Have I thought about kissing you onscreen? Is that what you're really asking, Kate, because I may just be loose enough to tell you_. Jeri watched her for several seconds before answering, noticing the now golden highlights in the dark hair. _I really did like the auburn_ , she thought. "You mean if the writers had written Seven into a relationship with Janeway?" Kate nodded not quite looking up. "Well, if that had actually happened," she hedged. "Which I doubt." She put her mouth against her glass muffling her admission. "I would have been able to kiss you."

The blue eyes that lifted to hers were filled with a smile that curled up the left corner of Kate's lips. The expression caused flutters again in Jeri's stomach. "That's what I saw," Kate said.

Jeri closed her eyes against that searching look. They flew open again though when she felt a warm set of soft fingers sliding over the back of her hand which was wrapped in a death-grip around the base of her glass.

Jeri could not decide where to settle her gaze, darting from her hand wrapped in Kate's, to the blue gaze darkening across the table. "That's what you thought?" she asked. "What does that mean?"

Kate shook her head and the fingers around Jeri's hand began to slide down to her wrist, still not releasing her, a subtle stroke. "That's not what I said." Kate's voice was husky in its clarification. "I said, 'that's what I saw'."

"I don't understand." Jeri shook her head. The way her stomach was starting to quiver faster the longer Kate held her gaze, she was unsure she wanted to understand.

While Kate only continued to hold her hand, her thumb now stroked the pulse point in her wrist. The older woman dipped her head slightly. _She has to be aware that my pulse has jumped four-fold since she touched me_ , Jeri thought. She watched dark lips shift as Kate spoke again. "I didn't realize until just this minute that you have always given me the same look I found in Ronnie's face that night."

Jeri shook her head in emphatic denial. _She can't know_. "No. No." She pulled her hand free of Kate's and started to collect herself to leave the bar. Not looking up, she said again, "No."

When she started forward, she found Kate had stood, and now the woman blocked her way out of the booth seat. Jeri continued to shake her head. Kate reached for her. She backed up against the wall. "Jeri," Kate said, Jeri's eyes tied to Kate's. "I know now what was happening."

Kate slipped onto the bench seat with her. So close, Jeri was trapped between the hardwood wall and froze like a deer, in the glow from Kate's eyes. How she had longed to see that! She however bit back to fight free. "You hate me. You have one coincidental experience and suddenly you're convinced that I've been in love with you?"

Kate shook her head; Jeri was drawn to the way the lamp light flickered through the golden highlights. Their bodies were so close Jeri now felt Kate's body heat against her exposed skin. The other woman still had not touched her again, but Jeri put up a hand to warn her off.

Kate grasped her hand, shook her head again and leaned forward. God they had only been this close twice before, Jeri thought.

Instantly she was back to the very first moment, terrified of the butterflies erupting in her stomach as "Seven" turned to look at "Janeway" off her left shoulder and lightly touching it. Their faces were so close she felt each time Kate breathed, as her right hand reached slowly toward Jeri's face...

She gasped now as fingers touched her temple again, and she knew her emotions and her memories were painted clearly on her face for the older woman to see.

"Yes," Kate said softly. "I understand what you... what I was feeling now."

Jeri shook herself forcefully from her emotional trance, trapped between painful and agonizing memories of the past, and her fear that this was, though her dream, desperately shifting to a nightmare. "No. I don't want this... you... like this." She gasped as Kate's fingers trailed down her cheek and across her lips. Intoxicating. "God, no!" She pushed against Kate. "Stop."

Kate's hands left her; her soul gave a silent cry for them to return.

"You want me as a substitute for her," Jeri tried to reason.

"I fell for her because she reminded me of you."

"You couldn't stand to be in the same room with me."

"I was scared."

"You hoped to forget all about me."

"Impossible."

Jeri could feel tears stinging the back of her eyes and knew she had to get away before she embarrassed herself.

Kate continued to block her way.

"Let me go," Jeri asked. "You're drunk. You have to be. You don't want to do this."

"Look at my face, Jeri. I am not drunk." Kate grasped her hand again and though Jeri resisted, she was soon having her knuckles brushed against Kate's jawline. "Look at me," Kate repeated when she dropped her head to close her eyes and shut out the vision of soft skin under her fingers.

Jeri lifted her gaze slowly, tracing the face she had faced off with so many times. "Please." She weakened in the soft emotions she found where so often implacability had damned her before.

Her eyes traced Kate's lips, which had so callously spoken to her so often. The memories now weakening in the sight of a quirky curl to them, almost a smile. She raised her gaze to eyes that had been afire with distrust when they happened to look upon her, only to find the quirked lips extended there, lighting the blue with a smile.

Kate nodded as the awareness penetrated them both, and her face filled all of Jeri's field of vision coming closer and closer until she could feel the heated breath hovering over her lips just before soft lips, sweeter tasting than she could ever have imagined, caressed her own.

Jeri's heart beat out the long seconds of their connection. One, two, three, four... and hesitated when the contact ended.

Sad, but still soft eyes met hers again when she opened them, catching her breath, still stunned.

"I was so very, very stupid, Jeri," Kate whispered. Her fingers caressed Jeri's cheek, and Jeri realized that she was crying. Then again, she saw tears glistening on Kate's cheek as the older woman spoke, so softly Jeri could almost have imagined it, "Please forgive me."

Heartbeat drumming in her ears, Kate was very nearly overcome with the rising passion in her belly which followed that kiss. Her gaze dropped to her hands as it shook leaving Jeri's skin.

As the days had turned into months, distancing her in more than mere miles from her experience in Boston, Kate had thought she would never experience such passion again.

Sex with Tim became uninteresting. Finally the dryness had led her to avoid intimacy entirely. He hovered like a hawk, certain she was cheating. She wasn't. The strain of suspicion wore her emotionally and physically.

She knew she had been battling depression when even West Palm Beach's early spring failed to truly charm her. Her father's death distracted her for a short time while she searched for more meaning to life in general.

As the questions she asked began turning her to examine her life in particular, she found herself jumping at every mention of Massachusetts in the news. Anxiety that her pining would be discovered coupled with the quivers caused by every night's living memory. She despaired she would ever again have cause for her blood to run hot, her hands shake, and her stomach quiver.

Her desire for news had led to her discovering Jeri's predicament when it broke. Massachusetts. Illinois. Like a yo-yo, her attention was flung back and forth. It seemed the quivering never stopped. Gradually she had come to see Jeri not as her former rival, but the young mother trying to protect her son from the harsh spotlight of the news cameras. And the dam had broken in Kate's wall of reserve. She _had_ to come to Las Vegas.

She raised her eyes again now and studied the emotions forming successively on Jeri's features. _Would the wide-eyed bafflement ever give way to a smile of acceptance, perhaps even finally a nod of forgiveness?_

Maybe she had gone too far. Though she had felt the promise of a future bond in the soft touch of their lips, perhaps she thought, _I should do more to explain_. She smiled and whispered to regain the other woman's attention, "Jeri?"

The blond head jerked upright, Jeri's pale features waif-like in their openness and shock. The reaction in Kate's chest was one of wanting to immediately render comfort and aid.

"What has changed so much?" Jeri asked.

"Me."

"Why? How? What can cause...?" The blonde fluttered her hand in Kate's direction. "This," she finished lamely.

"I'm ready for some fresh air," Kate both explained, and invited. "How about you?" She slid backward off the booth seat and watched with hope as Jeri watched Kate's hand slide the length of Jeri's thigh in her pants.

Her hand tingled and she had to close the fingers into a fist, holding onto the sensation tightly.

"Outside? But it's the middle of the night."

"We're sure to be left alone then, right?" Kate reasoned.

She noted the way Jeri's throat muscles moved as the woman swallowed in apprehension. The signs were so clear now she wondered how she had missed them before. She stepped back, not quite sure what prodded her that this was the correct move, and gestured outward. "I'll even let you lead the way."

Jeri considered that. At least out of the bar, she would feel less confronted, hell, less trapped. That was the only word for the sensation swirling in her chest with Kate blocking her way. "All right."

Kate stepped back again from the end of the bench, clearing Jeri's exit. Less than two steps away, Jeri felt a hand wrap around her wrist.

Looking back, Jeri found Kate's eyes flickering with the light from an overhead lamp.

"Just talk to me?" Kate asked.

The normally clear, confident husky tone was absent as Kate's voice sounded shot through with threads of uncertainty. Caught off guard by the warmth that suddenly flowed in her chest from what sounded like all-too-rare capitulation, Jeri could only acquiesce with a nod. Kate released her wrist and she found herself leading the way out of the bar, and out a side exit.

Abruptly there was only moonlight and small lanterns on short posts lining the sidewalk by which to see one another. Immediately Jeri felt more of her apprehension flow away. She had more control here, she felt, as the Nevada summer heat warmed her cooled skin. A glance to the woman on her left found Kate staring off at something.

"Well?" Jeri asked.

Kate looked down at her feet. "I don't know."

Jeri couldn't believe it. _All the way out here..._ Her emotions a wreck. Her anger ignited. "What the hell is going on, Kate? Why are you fucking with me now, after all this time? Can't you just leave it alone?"

"But you feel something for me, and I... feel something for you. Shouldn't we do something about it?"

" _If_ ," Jeri returned cautious about revealing herself only to be knocked down like a fighter in a ring opening himself up for a body blow. "If I felt something for you, don't you think it'd be dead? You've beaten it enough over the years." Jeri kept her gaze carefully averted. Trouble was she was sure Kate would be able to see her lying otherwise. The feelings were far from dead after all.

She had never considered herself a masochist but she could not deny that she did hope that someday things might mend between them. She suspected Kate knew, and having learned that, she was going to now use it as yet another weapon. "Damn it, I _won't_ be played with for sadistic amusement," she muttered and started to stalk away.

It was so quiet she could hear each of her footsteps, and the croak of toads in the hotel gardens.

And nothing else.

Jeri took a few more steps then stopped again. _Damn_. She turned around.

Kate had settled to a bench, head down in her hands. Frustrated between self-preservation and yet again letting this woman tangle her emotions, Jeri's temper simmered. Her jaw locked, trying to bar the questions from reaching her lips. Her feet carried her within a few feet once again.

Kate nearly jumped off the bench when Jeri's shadow fell across her. To the wide blue eyes that lifted, Jeri reiterated, "You are _not_ in love with me." Maddeningly she found herself wanting Kate to deny it. Kate only looked back down at her hands in her lap, as the fingers twisted over and around one another. "You should call her, whoever, and resolve it. I'm not a scapegoat. I wasn't then, I won't be now."

"You think it's wrong?"

"You can't just transfer emotions from one person to another."

"You think that's what I'm doing?"

"You've done it before." Jeri held herself impassive as Kate searched her face, obviously looking for signs of this other woman in her. She felt envy that this other woman would 'get' Kate so deeply that she was pining nearly a year later.

_I never knew you could feel anything that deeply_ , she thought. Her expression gentled, reflecting the depths of her own emotions.

Kate stood abruptly; Jeri backed up and her expression cleared. "Stop!"

"Jeri," was barely a whisper, beckoning.

_Oh, fuck_. "No." Unfortunately her gaze had locked on Kate's mouth and she could only swallow as the too-brief kiss earlier drowned her senses in memory.

She almost didn't hear Kate speak. "You think it's wrong for me to transfer emotions?" Kate asked. The smaller woman was only a few feet away, and took another step forward. Jeri found it impossible to step backward. "Then I apologize."

Jeri's heart actually hit on a thud, and stopped. "For what?"

"For aiming my anger at the producers at you instead."

"Just like that? No," Jeri insisted. "That's not enough."

In the disconnected sensations that told her everything had to be her imagination, Jeri looked down, following Kate's dropped gaze, and felt the fine boned fingers wrap around her right hand.

Her heart plummeted to her stomach then raced up into her throat, making her dizzy. She looked up to gain her bearings just as Kate's lips pressed to her own. Her knees weakened under a barrage of sensations within herself. Then the trembling in Kate's right palm cupping her left cheek was her undoing. Her "Oh, God" mingled with  
Kate's pleased moan.

The vortex of sensation sucked them down. Only vaguely did Jeri realize they were actually going down, reclining now, Kate essentially wrapped around her, on a bench along the sidewalk, its metal grating cool on her back counterpoint to Kate, who felt hot as fire under her hands.

Only the arm of the bench, a thin metal bar curved at the end, woke Jeri abruptly to the reality of the situation as it dug into her low back. "Oh. God. What the fuck are we doing?"

She pushed up, to dislodge Kate. The woman's knee moved between hers. Jeri's hand was grasped and the palm kissed. The sensation shot directly to Jeri's groin. She jerked away.

Kate prevented Jeri's hand from connecting with her cheek. "You can't deny how that felt," she said, low and obviously aroused.

"Physicality doesn't help a faulty relationship. Jack taught me that."

Kate blinked; her confusion was palpable as she sat up. "What?"

Jeri scooted away, against the farther end of the bench, a little distance between them cleared her head somewhat. "We could never be equals, Kate. You always have to come out on top. I don't want to fight, professionally or personally."

"I don't want to fight with you either."

"Then why were you so damn good at it? And constant. You took every opportunity to strike out. I tried to just work at my job, and instead I turn around and find snub after snub. It wouldn't have been so bad if you hadn't managed to get comments in every media outlet in the country. You want to console your ego. You want me to accept your  
apology for more than three years of constant disdain. I'm supposed to believe you did that because you loved me?""

"I was scared." Kate looked up. Jeri had to look away from the confused and pained expression or her resolve would fail her. "Looking at you made my chest tighten, my throat close up. I couldn't understand it."

"So you resorted to verbal abuse?" Jeri made it clear how she felt about that with a toss of her head and a soft snort. "I didn't need it. I don't need it. I had more than enough from Jack." She stood, done with this.

"Don't go, please."

"Kate, there is no reason for me to stay. Whatever your confusions, they are yours. Call your girlfriend, get over her, whatever. But I'm done."

"Can we at least be friends?"

Jeri shook her head. "There's just too much, Kate. Impossible." She covered her face briefly, ridding herself of her dreams in the gesture as she brushed her hands back over her hair, setting it somewhat in order. 

Turning back to say goodbye, she was struck though to the core, however, when Kate's gaze seared into hers, the lamplight casting her features in relief. She saw sincerity, determination and promise.

Kate's velvet voice rolled over her senses. "Impossible is a word humans use far too often."

_God._ Had Kate ever known how heartfelt Jeri had been delivering that line? They had been fighting particularly harshly at the end of Voyager's fourth season, Jeri's first. Did Kate remember? She was rooted to the spot as Kate stood; Jeri took a step back. Kate did not move forward.

"Will you be at the breakfast in a few hours?"

"Where are you going?"

"To make amends," Kate said, though she never looked back.

Jeri could only sink to the bench, wondering what the hell had just happened. _To make amends? But walk away? What the hell did that mean? Should I stay?_

**Part 5**

Despite the rising chill of the night outside, Kate still shivered when she reached the air-conditioned hotel lobby. More from frustration, and frustrated sexual tension than from the cool air though. She wanted to run back outside and assure herself that Jeri would not leave, but the blonde had made it clear she did not believe Kate.

The answer, Kate knew, lay in Jeri's experiences with Jack. She remembered how angry she had felt on Jeri's behalf when it came to light that he had taken her to a raunchy club, said he accepted that she didn't want to do it, only to spring another one on her less than a year later. Jeri would never believe what someone said, over what someone did, Kate realized.

That would make it very difficult, if not impossible, for Kate to express to Jeri all that she felt had changed in her perceptions. Kate had demonstrated in too many interviews, raw, negative feelings. Her set behavior had been not just cool, but icy.

They weren't working together anymore, and likely, never again. _So how could Kate prove she understood Jeri was a professional, that she could admire a fellow actress, that she respected Jeri?_

Kate stepped up to the elevator and pushed the floor call button as she pondered the problem. A ruckus behind her drew her around. "Klingons", fans dressed up as the Star Trek warriors, paraded in the front doors.

_Wait a minute_ , she thought as she realized they were coming directly toward her, jabbering in their made up language and laughing and mock-battlling with their little rubber weapons. _I can 'work' with her. Here at the con. What better way to send out the word that I think she's worth praise, than right here. These people spread word faster than wildfires._

The Klingon dressed fans spotted her then. Kate steeled her nerves as she awaited their approach.

"K'Plah!" barked one whom, Kate realized on close inspection, was a pale-faced overweight man, probably only a little older than her eldest son, Ian, in his early 20s.

She was unsure what to respond, but she smiled as they all -- looking vitally serious -- slapped their leather-clad chests and echoed, "K'Plah."

She wrestled her nerve together and said, "Good evening."

Another babbled something in their made up language -- sometimes the fandom really fascinated her, Kate thought. There were hearty laughs, and the speaker was slapped by several hands on the back.

"Ah, um. Did you enjoy today's show?" Kate asked. "I assume Roxanne Dawson's why you're here?"

A tanned young woman spoke up, and Kate identified an Hispanic accent. "She is always cool. I got her book signed." A book was held up and Kate noted Roxanne's signature on the cover in felt-tip marker. There was something of a challenge though in the younger woman's eyes when she continued though, and Kate realized why as she spoke. "However, I came particularly to support Jeri Ryan. I wanted to tell her I was glad she didn't cancel."

Kate nodded and smiled. "That was nice of you. I'm sure she appreciated it. She has been having a hard time lately."

A few made-up eyebrows rose in surprise. Kate again realized Jeri was right. Kate's mouth had definitely formed a pattern. Breaking it was, for everyone, going to be a surprise. Perhaps even suspect, or unbelieved, for a long period of time.

_Well, time to pull out a small tack hammer and knock a few cracks in things_.

"She worked hard on her last series. It was a shame to see that constantly overshadowed by her ex."

Kate had not seen the series itself, but knew that "a conflict in filming schedule" was what Jeri had written in her letter declining to attend Kate's fundraising party for Tim's gubernatorial campaign.

Yet again, Kate was reminded how much she had to make up for. It was a miracle Jeri had not simply walked away the instant their gazes met in the hotel bar.

The elevator beeped. Suddenly, riding in an elevator with a group of fans was far from Kate's mind. She needed more time alone to think. "Excuse me," she said, and instead headed for the stairwell.

_Four flights ought to be a decent start_ , she thought, pulling open the stairwell door and stepping inside.

# # #

Jeri's stunned silence soon gave way to the realization, after another shiver, that the desert got cold after dark. A look around assured her she was alone and she wiped at her face, not terribly surprised to find a few tears.

After the emotional roller coaster of the last hour, she was surprised she was not a huddled puddle on the ground. The direct contradiction of everything Kate was suddenly saying, with everything she had been doing, raised all sorts of red flags with Jeri. She had determined, during her divorce, to never let people manipulate her into doing  
something again.

She still felt the queasiness that had led her throwing up every time she thought about Jack taking her to that horrible club.

She would not be manipulated into loving someone. _Ever_. Swallowing hard, she stood.

Kate's face floated before her mind's eye. She stumbled. The woman had looked so earnest.

Jeri straightened her shoulders. _No._

She headed into the lobby, determined to check out. A group of Klingons, fans dressed up in the regalia of the warriors anyway, drew her attention though. They were howling out at her just before the doors of the elevator shut tight.

Realizing then it was the middle of the night, Jeri shook her head. She could not check out now. She was already paying for a second night. _Might as well use it_.

She would set her alarm and be up at dawn, and check out, leaving behind everything.

Including Kate.

Avoiding the central elevators, she headed for the stairwell. Opening the door, she placed a hand on the metal railing and looked up.

_Four flights?_ Exhaling, she started the long climb.

A fire door high above her banged shut. She stopped as her heart raced. A count of several seconds passed and no footsteps could be heard on the steps.

She briefly considered that she was getting nothing out of being in the public eye. She was constantly afraid of what would be said next about her, or what would come out of her past and accost her.

So many people treated her as a product, not a person. Kate wanted her, as a balm, a prize to her ego. Certainly not as an equal, as Jeri had dreamed before stepping on set together with the other actress for the first time. So much had happened. So much said, and yelled.

She might understand what had driven Kate to be scared and angry, but it didn't mean she had to like it. Forgiveness was another matter entirely. Once again, Jeri reflected over their years together, recalling how many times she had just caught a glimpse of unguarded expression in Kate's face, not even for the full count of a single breath... and Jeri wondered what might have been.

_Water under the bridge_ , her mother might counsel her. But Kate had come on like a flash flood. The dams Jeri had built to protect herself were definitely showing signs of wear after tonight.

Jeri came back to Kate's promise, made tonight: "To make amends."

"I would love to see it happen, Kate. But..." She shook her head. Her words echoed slightly in the stairwell, sounding as forlorn as she felt. Jeri sighed and returned to her feet.

Perhaps she ought to retire, settle down with Alex in some Simi Valley farmhouse and raise dogs.

# # #

  
Undressing, Kate caught sight of herself in the hotel room's mirror. As vivid as always she recalled the bathroom in Boston, and the explosion of sensations that had instantly awakened in her that night. _I never knew what I was missing_ had passed through her mind so many nights since then.

The only contact in the last nine months which had brought that same vivid color back into her experience was Jeri tonight.

Her blue eyes clouded in conflict. Jeri had made it quite clear she did not believe a word Kate had said. The blonde had even talked about transference.

But as shockingly comparable Ronnie Cook and Jeri Ryan seemed on the surface, Kate felt differently around them, on an entirely non-physical level. She slipped past the skittering sensation cascading over her skin and tried to define it.

Before the play, Ronnie had not know Kate Mulgrew from a million other people. Her open expressiveness had been captivating. Loving as their sexual encounter had been, Kate finally accepted that they had been explorers together in the same mystery.

With Ronnie, Kate felt her inner woman had come out to play.

When Kate looked at Jeri, she wanted that inner woman to come out to stay.

Jeri's suspicious looks only made Kate more determined to prove herself. No acting, no fronts, defensive or otherwise.

Kate sighed as she crawled between the hotel bed's sheets. Jeri's voice plied her ears in memory: _It's not enough. I don't believe you. You hate me_.

Tears of self-loathing trickled down Kate's face. Suddenly she didn't want to think about it anymore. To quell her mind, she flipped on the television. Some inane late night humor might do the trick.

Flipping through the channels she dropped the clicker when a familiar figure crossed the screen. Entranced, she watched Jeri, as Seven, sampling a cheesecake. The look of decadent pleasure on the other woman's face hit Kate hard.

She vaguely recalled during the shooting, which had given her a much shorter call sheet than most episodes, Jeri had mimicked Bob's portrayal of the holographic doctor even off camera, a total immersion. It was one of the few times Kate recalled laughing on the set with Jeri, instead of trying desperately to ignore her.

She never realized though how skillfully that attention to detail had come together for the episode, not being one to generally watch the finished products.

There was Seven-as-Doc suffering from overindulgence, her movements loose and erotic, her lips forming words, naivete wrapped up in a thoroughly charming package.

_Had I been that captain_ , Kate thought, _I'd have fallen for her too_. It had nothing to do with the writing, only Jeri's command of her body, portraying The Doctor reveling in the pleasures of the physical form and function with total abandon.

It was mesmerizing. Kate understood now truly what she had lost in her mistreatment, and letting her apprehension get the better of her. As the credits rolled, forlornly she snapped off the set, turned off her light and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

_Kate, you've been a damn old fool._

# # #

  
Kate exhaled. It was Sunday at two in the afternoon, but after her restless night, and the emotional reckoning she had made with herself, it felt like it should be much later than that. The breakfast, a time she often enjoyed with the adulation of the fans who chattered frequently aimlessly and shyly energizing her a bit, instead had been a disappointment. She knew why.

Her faint hopes that Jeri might have stayed around, to give Kate another chance to talk, had been dashed when she inquired at the front desk only to be told "Ms. Ryan checked out at six a.m."

_You really blew it, Kate._ The old Kate might have simply absorbed that, and moved on. But it seemed regret had become her constant companion in the last year, a real emotion, not something formulated from the abstract for her roles.

"Ms. Mulgrew?"

She lifted her gaze from her hands in her lap as she sat down. "Yes?" It was the convention's chief organizer.

"They're almost ready for you," he said. "The movie is about done."

She inhaled, exhaled and stood. "All right."

"Could you use a coffee or something?"

She smiled faintly. That's what they always asked. She shook her head. "Just water." She was definitely too jittery already to add coffee to the mix.

"All right. I'll be right back."

Kate ran her fingers through her lightened hair, giving herself the mental pep talk that always worked: _Here comes Janeway._

Trouble was she no longer felt that invincible or confident. She gave herself a wry frown. _WWJD: What would Janeway do?_

Well one thing she knew, Janeway wouldn't give up. Mulgrew on the other hand... Kate thought about her father and sighed. _Damn it, Dad, I can't give up either._

So, her mythological mantle shifted a little, Kate stepped out on stage, clutching her water bottle, as herself. Acting skills of more than a quarter century carried her through so much. _Perhaps_ , she hoped fervently, _they can carry me just a little longer._

Looking out across the crowd, she picked a few faces, from their smiles, or their costumes, or toddlers in their arms, and welcomed them:

_"Thank you. My, what a vast and daunting group you are. And how delighted I am to see you. I have really only one question, which may determine the rest of this hour. Is  
this a non-partisan congregation? And if so, how do I correct it!? I had meant to come and regale you with many stories of the DNC, I was invited to be a delegate this year for the Creative Coalition, and I was looking forward to sharing with you many of the stories of my illustrious meetings with all the mucketty mucks in Boston. However the circumstances of life conspired against me as they so often do."  
_  
"What happened?" shouted someone in the audience.

Kate considered where to start. _With Dad_ , she thought. _"This has been a sobering year for me. A difficult year for me. Not a banner year for my heart. My father died in January. My mother is dying very rapidly of Alzheimer's disease ? she's in the final stages now. I come from, as some of you may know, a very large, Irish Catholic family, and so we are doubly afflicted, and not taking this in the cavalier stride of yesteryear. This probably will not come as a surprise for those of you who are of your middle age and  
have watched a parent die or watched a parent suffer. I'm surprised at my reaction. It is wobbly. Uncertain. Aghast. I feel more like a child than I think I ever did feel  
as a child. So in the throes of what I've been feeling..." _She trailed off a little uncertain. Listening to herself she realized she had rambled. _In the middle of your emotions, huh? Drowning in them, apparently,_ she chastened herself.

From a few nearby faces, she thought she saw some consternation on them as well.

"Sorry about your father!" someone shouted from the back. Kate was glad of a subject to continue with.

_"My father died summarily ? in two weeks time. Way to go Dad. My father did not pass away ? my father died. Took him to the hospital ? this is very Irish ? I?m going to share it  
with you though because I'm proud of him. I think one should die the way one lives, right? That was my old man. I came home ? my father has never seen a doctor in his whole  
life. Eighty-three years old. "No need to see 'em. Never did. Never will, God damn it."Right?! "Healthy as a horse, they're only going to make trouble." So. He had trouble with his vision in December, I think it was. And his eyes crossed, which is, of course, not a good sign. So he said, "All right, I'll go in and see the son of a bitch, but I'll tell you what. It's only to correct this vision problem, so I can read and do my crossword puzzles. That's all I care about. We're in and we're going to get the hell out." In we go, and of course, predictably, it was a brain tumor. But it was malignant throughout. So the doctor, instead of being forthright, which is so often the case, and I never get it, was wrong. First do no harm. It's harmful when you lie or deviate, isn't it? My father's eighty-three. Tell him the truth. He deserves it. Well he didn't. "Mr. Mulgrew, we're going to take care of this, it's going to be great. We're going to give you this, we're going to give you that, there's going to be chemo, there's going to be radiation, you're going to be fit as a fiddle. I can buy you a lot of time." He said, "Please tell me the truth, Doctor. Right now. I don't know what the hell you're talking about a lot of the time." The doctor said, "Well, you have cancer of the lung and an inoperable brain tumor on the brain stem and it's only a matter of time." "Before what?" "Well, before you die, Mr. Mulgrew." "Well now  
look pal, let's talk." My father? "How much time are we talking about?" "Not very long. Six months, eight months, if you adhere to my orders." "And if I don't?" "Three weeks. A  
month." My father buried his face in his hands for a long moment, then he looked up at the doctor and he said, "Tell me something, Doc. Were you born with this wild sense of  
humor?" Then he turned to me and he said, "Kit, get my coat, we're going home, we're going to have a cocktail." And we did. We had a cocktail every night for five nights. I told my father how much I loved him ? what an extraordinary and magnificent presence he had been in my life. What a tough, tough guy he was on me. He drove me. He was the fuel behind everything I did as an actress. And how I would miss him. And what he felt about death. And I loved his last words. "I don't fear it, Sugar. But God knows, I don't welcome it either." And that was it to my father. So I got the way he did it. In and out."_

"Do you miss Voyager?"

"I... I do. So many hours. You put your soul into it. Hard work."

"What's your favorite episode?"

"Last one of course," she quipped. There was a scattering of laughter. "Honestly, I don't recall names. You people are better at this sort of thing." She asked, "What was your favorite?" getting a few shouts back in cacophony, but the laughter was a balm. She had never felt so unprepared...

When it quieted it a bit, she gambled. "All the episodes were so creative, marvelous ideas really. Between sentient holograms, and these bounty hunters after Voyager, loved working with Jason Alexander actually. Funny, funny man. As much as I was in the thick of it, I think sometimes looking back, there were real character pieces, humor,  
for all the cast. It was great fun with Roxanne and Robbie doing so many different episodes, both behind and in front of the cameras. Sometimes, you know, I don't think they knew they were coming or going." She smiled. "Robbie directed Bob Picardo and... Jeri." Kate paused as her mind reconjured the drunk Seven. "... in this body snatching type thing. The Doctor was hiding from these hologram hunters or something." She fidgeted. "Watching that was... it really showed off a lot of creative talent."

More of the nearby faces scrunched up in question. "You weren't in that one much."

"Nice to get a break once in a while," she answered glibly covering her emotional outpouring. She lifted her gaze and asked, "Any other questions?"

There was a murmur. A question or two. A little girl asked about if she visited her mother when she got home. Kate nodded and thought briefly of her own mother. "Of course, I did. I missed her. Wouldn't you?"

Again, Kate was awash with emotions. Shaking herself a bit, she tried for another topic. Too late, she realized what it could open up...

_"You all know that I've been doing a play, right? Life of Hepburn. 'Tea at Five'. Didn't want to. But a friend of a friend called up and said, 'Why not?' So I took a look. Marvelous bits. Campy. Catchy. Bit of a live wire. So, what do I do? Grab hold with both hands."_

She hesitated and took a few steps across the stage, energy burning. " _Crazy. Absolutely crazy. The Life of Katharine Hepburn. A one-woman play, and vastly different. Hepburn's thirty-one in Act 1… Having just been labeled 'box office poison', and she's back at the family home in Fenwick. She's very agitated and she's very concerned that this in fact will be the end of her career. So we see her trying to be her gregarious, bombastic sort of strident Yankee self, and underneath is this terrible feeling, I think, of fragility that Hollywood will not accept her – that she will not become_ _the great star that she promised her father she would become. And in Act 2, at seventy-six, having just experienced what was really a treacherous car accident, we see her in a far more reflective stance, and she's self deprecating, she talks about Spencer Tracy." For effect, Kate slipped into Hepburn's Connecticut accent. "She talks about her brother Tom, she goes deep, deep into her heart… "_

Kate cut herself off. _"So suddenly I'm rehearsing this play, jetting this way and that... My husband Tim lives in Ohio as you know, with this little place I've got in New York, on to Connecticut for the opening. Oh, the family panned us horribly. Crowd loved it. Tweaking a bit, the production took it on the road. Headed for New York, we thought, stops in Cleveland while my husband was campaigning, New York, Boston...."_

Too late, 'Boston' triggered Kate's memories of Ronnie, then washed her in memories of Jeri. She stopped. Silent, she looked out over the crowd. "What would Janeway do, huh?" she exhaled. "Go with it, storm them all, hmm?" She nodded. "Yeah. Yes." She dipped her head, tucked herself together. The end. _God, I can't do anymore..._

Somehow she had filled her time. She didn't remember half what she had said, but the exhaustion of emotions was total. Abruptly she was done and the young man in the wings gestured she could close up. She turned to the sea of faces and said simply, "Thank you."

The applause was astonishingly loud, cacophonous to her ears. Kate stepped off stage, a little disoriented as the wash of emotions sloughed away and left her drained. Joe let go of her arm and stepped away. She looked up to search for a chair just to catch her breath for a moment before leaving. Her gaze slid to a tall figure stepping from the shadows. Recognition stalled her breath in her chest. Jeri stood just inside the shadows of the wings, obviously having been watching her.

Not trusting her voice, she whispered, "I thought you had left."

"That's the kind of year you had?" Jeri was stunned and equally quiet.

"I learned something from it all, though. Just... too late," Kate said simply.

"But Kate... I don't understand."

Kate was glad much remained unspoken since they were in public, but Jeri's reaction made her stand slowly and take a step forward. She kept her voice earnest but soft for the blonde's ears only. "I want a chance for the friendship I denied us before now. I was wrong." She met Jeri's blue eyes and exhaled before biting her lip.

Jeri shifted uneasily, and suddenly Kate could say no more about it because their privacy was interrupted. The gopher type informed her that she needed to start signing pictures. He took a step back when he identified Jeri was the person standing next to her. He looked at Kate and she read the surprise and curiosity in his expression. She ignored it, bringing something more important to mind.

"Will you join me?" Kate returned her gaze to Jeri's face. She swallowed, nervous as she looked up, but knowing she had to start somewhere, even if she was left with nowhere for her heart to go.

Jeri's lips quivered; she wanted to say something. Her throat was too tight. She swallowed against the blockage. "All right."

Her eyes shined with moisture as she met Kate's gaze again, finding the auburn woman's blue eyes shining as well.

# # #

To thunderous and surprised applause, Kate and Jeri walked out together to sign. Kate took one faster step, and reached out at the table to tug out the chair to her left. She nodded Jeri to sit in it before sitting down herself. The man to her right handed her a marker; she passed it to Jeri before taking another next to her on the table. When their  
hands touched, she said nothing as their fingers exchanged the writing implement. Jeri's eyes were still filled with wariness; Kate ticked up the left corner of her lips then released Jeri's fingers and she picked up another marker, looking up as Jeri signed a picture, and then passed it back.

"Would you sign this one too?" asked that first fan in line, a woman in a wheelchair, who simply nodded toward Kate, indicating, if Kate was willing, to just hand the picture to her.

"I'd be happy to," Kate answered with an easy smile, taking the picture from Jeri's fingers. This time she felt the touch linger on Jeri's part. She studied the image, trying not to react to the hopeful embers warming her belly. It was a PR shot, all of the cast gathered around the set. Roxanne had signed over her head. Tim Russ, also a guest from the day before, had signed down alongside his image. Front and center, Kate could have signed across her likeness. She saw where Jeri had signed, angled up across the lean Borg catsuit torso, not riding into the other players, just another member of the group. So that's how Kate signed too. She put her autograph across her own image's waist. Tidy, compact. Part of the whole. She glanced up to see Jeri studying her. She ducked her gaze away and passed the image to the fan.

"Thanks."

"You're quite welcome."

Both Kate and Jeri turned their attention to the rest of the line.

# # #

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there is more coming between KM and JR. 
> 
> BTW: Kate's rambling on the con stage? All that was transcribed from real appearances she did around the time. I don't think they were all at the same convention, but clearly the woman was processing a lot of stuff quite openly on stage in front of fans.
> 
> Are you ready for more? The next story up is **Learning to Cook** , focused on JR's processing of what happened in Vegas. 
> 
> Did you want to know what happened with Ronnie (JR's role in Boston Public) from the first story? I wrote **Identity Crisis** to cover that and it kicks off another branch of stories this weird multiverse in my head.


End file.
